


All I Want for Christmas

by Pineau_noir



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Blushing Steve Rogers, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Christmas, Domestic Avengers, Everybody Lives, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Flirty Bucky Barnes, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Let's just totally ignore canon and let every be happy and live in the Tower, Multi, No Endgame Discourse, Not Canon Compliant, Shrunkyclunks, Smut, There is 1 (one) CW reference, Vague knowledge of art and art stores, domestic stucky, everybody is happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21875302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineau_noir/pseuds/Pineau_noir
Summary: We're gonna live like it's 2012! Everybody lives at the Tower and they're all happy! All the domestic fluff!Steve is retired from action, living his best life, helping with the Avengers and gently flirting with his favorite art store employee, Bucky Barnes, at Christmastime.Written for the incredibly kind and talented TrishArgh who won my 2019 FTH auction.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 17
Kudos: 316
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2019





	All I Want for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TrishArgh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrishArgh/gifts).



Steve was really enjoying his post-Avengers life. He was having fun training the new kids, and _kids_ they were. Wanda and Pietro were barely out of their teens, and Kate Bishop, Clint’s new recruit, looked 16 even though she swore she was 21. Steve felt ancient at 35. Or 101 if you counted his age like Tony. Which nobody did except Tony. 

Letting Sam take up the mantle as Captain America was one of the best choices of Steve’s life. He knew he wouldn’t hesitate to jump back into action if the world needed him. But being able to make his own choices, being able to be as active in saving the world as _he_ deemed necessary, allowed him to rest for the first time since before the war. He was finally able to really enjoy his new health without fighting aliens and monsters and robots. _Jesus_ his life was weird.

Plus it gave him time to really figure out what made him happy. He had a journal, which he wrote in sporadically, that listed all of the things that made him happy. This had started after he woken up out of the ice, on the advice of his SHIELD appointed therapist. Eight years later, he didn’t need it like he used to, but it was still something that made him appreciate his life. 

Today was Thursday so Steve knew _exactly_ what he would be writing in his journal. On Thursdays he had a standing appointment with the local art shop. And the art shop meant _Bucky_. Steve felt his face get warm and he tried to bite back a smile.

As he was not alone at breakfast, and in the company of the best spy in the history of spies, Natasha noticed his flush and goofy grin.

“It’s Thursday, Rogers. Gonna go see your boy toy?” she asked with a sly smile.

“Oooh,” Clint joined in, with his mouth full of toast and eggs. Nat elbowed him in the ribs and scolded him under her breath, making him squeak and spit out a few crumbs. 

Tony watched the goings on with a fond look on his face. He and Rhodey had saved the world and he had destroyed all of his suit several years ago. Granted he had made a “in case of emergency” Iron Man suit, but like Steve, he was more focused on training the new Avengers at the compound and less focused on being on the front lines. Add in his marriage to Pepper and the birth of their child, Morgan, and Tony was like a different person. Steve thought happiness was a good look for both Tony and him.

Bringing his attention back to the conversation, he rolled his eyes. “Not my ‘boy toy,’ Nat. He’s just a nice guy at the—”

“At the store who gives you his employee discount everytime you go,” Sam interrupted. “ _And_ you come home with hearts in your eyes and more shit than you could ever possibly use. How many new forms of art are you planning on starting? Has he gotten you into marble sculpture yet?” Sam winked at Steve, taking away any sting from his words.

“I just like the store,” Steve replied gruffly. “It’s not busy on Thursdays and he never makes a big deal that I used to be Captain America.”

“It helps that he’s easy on the eyes,” Clint added.

Steve gave him a scandalized look. “How do you know what he looks like?” he asked.

“Nat mighta—”

“Done nothing, Clinton Francis Barton.” Her voice was clipped as she glared at the whole table. “I know where you sleep,” she threatened in a whisper. 

Clint just grinned at her and blew her a kiss. “I’ll remember this the next time you steal all the covers,” he countered.

Natasha muttered something in Russian that Steve was sure wasn’t fit for polite company. Not that any of his friends were _polite_. He briefly thought about flipping off Nat for her meddling, but remembered what she had done to his TV. He still couldn’t get the Spanish subtitles off even if he had finally figured out how to change the spoken language from Hungarian to English.

Finishing up his cup of coffee, Steve took in his friends, his new family: Tony, with his attention half at the gathered group and half on the little earpiece that was connected to the baby monitor in Morgan’s room, Sam with his warm, easy grin and a pep talk for anyone who was feeling down, Clint who still felt more comfortable in Avenger’s Tower than out in the open, and Natasha who was the most loyal of them all; her childhood was a mess and she still had the capacity to love and protect the people she considered hers. Thor, Bruce, and Rhodey were out at the compound, in charge of the newbies.

“You’re all idiots,” he said, fondly. 

“And yet you’re friends with all of us,” Tony said sensibly.

Steve smiled. “I couldn’t ask for better.”

Sam booed at him. “This is too sappy for the morning, Steve. Go ogle your boy and bring back some new art supplies. We’re planning on picking out a tree this afternoon. It's December! We have everybody coming in to the city next weekend for the latkes and eggnog party. The twins are apparently making dreidels and we have to find gelt.” 

Another thing that Steve was going to have to write in his happy journal: holidays with the Avengers were the very definition of the word magical. Christmas had never been a big affair, growing up poor and Irish in Brooklyn during the depression. During the war, Peggy had talked him into playacting Father Christmas with the SSR but nothing compared to Christmas and Haunnakah at the Tower. Tony went all out and they all had charitable foundations that sponsored families in need year round. 

Steve nodded at Sam. “Sure, I’ll stop by [Ben's](https://www.bensdeli.net/) for some pastrami sandwiches and see if they have any suggestions. I refuse to buy gelt from a big box store.” Steve got up and rolled his shoulders. “Who’s in charge of the sufganiyah?” 

Everybody pointed at Clint who smiled. “I’m great with fried food!”

——

Less than an hour later, Steve was walking into Art Attack to see Bucky and spend more money on art supplies. Getting back into drawing was something that had also come out of therapy. And sure, _now_ he mostly went shopping for art supplies because he had a little crush on Bucky, but it had started as more of a therapeutic exercise. He was even considering enrolling in a continuing education class at the local community college. Tony had given him a flier for a life model drawing class that started after the new year. 

The bell on the door rang, cheery as ever and Bucky was waiting at the counter for Steve, just like he did every week. Steve paused briefly because Bucky was wearing a dark red sweater and _tight_ black skinny jeans. He looked good enough to eat. His dark hair was pulled back out of his face, leaving his ice blue eyes on display. Shaking himself, his inner voice reminding him _don’t be a creep, Steven Grant Rogers; he works at a store you frequent, you can’t perv on him like this_ , he smiled at Bucky. 

“Steve,” his voice was musical, “welcome back. Anything in particular you’re looking for or just browsing around for something new?” 

Steve’s brain was still a little sluggish. Bucky usually wore neutral colors and jeans that didn’t seem to mold themselves to the muscles in his toned thighs, his shapely calves, his cock. However today he had gone all out and Steve had to remind himself again to pull himself together. Steve’s brain stuttered while, to his shame, _his_ cock was beginning to be very interested in the view of _Bucky’s_ cock. 

“Um,” he croaked out and cleared his throat.

“Oh, Steve!” Bucky said, concern lacing his tone. “Are you sick? Can I make you a hot tea? We have an amazing machine in the back!”

Steve shook his head. “No, I’m fine, thanks. Just—” his mind rushed for a reason to have lost his voice that wasn’t _you’re so hot I could die_. “Um, it’s just cold out there and the warm air threw me off.” 

“...If you’re sure.” Bucky sounded skeptical, but he was fighting a smile and his cheeks had gone pink. Steve was _sure_ he had been caught leering so he just nodded like an idiot.

“Yeah, I think I’m just gonna look around right now?” 

Bucky actually smiled at that. “If you’re sure,” he repeated as he walked behind the counter. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”

Steve scrambled to the back of the store so he could hide his shame. He pulled out his cellphone and called the only person he could trust in a crisis like this, Nat.

“Rogers, is the art store being invaded?” she asked instead of greeting Steve like a normal person.

“Nat!” he whisper shouted. “Bucky looks like sex on a stick and I’m hiding in the back with an innapropriate boner. What do I do?”

After thirty seconds or so of listening to her laugh, he hung up. The call had done what he needed though and his physical reaction had settled a bit. His phone buzzed and he looked at the text from Nat, rolling his eyes when she only said “go get him, Cap” followed by a bunch of eggplant emojis.

Steve _knew_ what that emoji meant. 

Dragging his mind back to where he was and what he was supposed to be doing, he realized he was in an aisle full of yarn. Steve was resolute, he was _not_ going to pick up knitting. Unless he could find knitting needles made out of vibranium, he would break them and the metal ones, well he would probably injure somebody with them. 

He slunk around the corner and landed in the paint section. _Sure,_ he thought _I can get some watercolors. Don’t have them yet_. He looked at the different brands in wonder. There were a lot of choices. _A lot_.

“Hey, um, Buck?” he called out.

“Yeah, Steve?” 

“Can you recommend a brand of watercolor paints?”

Bucky was smirking as he found Steve in the store. “A new medium, huh? Knitting wasn’t to your taste?”

Steve felt his eyes get big. “How….”

Bucky pointed to the corner. “Big ass mirror,” he said. 

“S— so you?” Steve stuttered.

“Saw you make a phone call and then pout? Rather adorably, I might add.” Bucky winked and Steve’s face was on fire. _Damn his pale Irish skin!_ “‘S OK, Stevie. I’m not here to judge. I’m just here to help you pick out art shit.”

Thankful for Bucky’s attempt at changing the subject, he asked “shit?”

“Yeah, I mean, I like my job, don’t get me wrong, but there’s a lot of stuff here. I’m sure some people find it really useful and interesting.”

Steve raised his brows. “You’re not one of them?”

Bucky smiled and shook his head. “I can’t create art to save my life. I uh, I majored in political science and ...”

“And the job market is tough?” Steve supplied.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, my sister, Becca, she’s the artist in the family. She works for a CUNY community college, in the art department. She actually went to school with the owner of Art Attack. Not gonna lie, she’s so much cooler than I’ll ever be.”

Steve looked down at his feet and mumbled, “you’re pretty cool, too, Buck.” He peeked up at Bucky who was smiling and avoiding Steve’s eyes.

“Nah,” he answered gruffly. “I’m just a big nerd with too many Lego sets and too many opinions on local and national politics.”

Steve had an idea. He didn’t know if it was a _good_ idea necessarily, but it was an idea. “Hey, I uh, I know somebody who could—”

“Nope,” Bucky cut him off. “Nothing personal about you except you’re Steve and you look familiar. I don’t want you to go milkshake duck on me.”

Steve laughed. “I understood those words separately, but I have no idea what that sentence means.”

Bucky ran his hand through his hair, obviously forgetting it was pulled back and messed it all up. He cursed under his breath as he took out the hair tie that had contained everything and he worked on fixing his hair. “Yeah, the milkshake duck. It’s this thing where—” his voice went high— “ooh, there’s a duck on the internet that drinks milkshakes! Soooo cute!!!” He grimaced. “Then the next day you find out the duck is a racist. Right now you’re cute Steve who buys art supplies and might be famous. I don’t want to find out if you’re, like, into armpit porn.”

Steve couldn’t contain his laughter at that. He also couldn't contain the interest in his dick at hearing Bucky say the word _porn_. He looked back up at Bucky who had a glint in his eye. “Cute, huh?” 

Bucky buried his face in his hands. “That would be what you got from that,” he said, peeking out through his fingers. 

Steve winked. “Well, I’m not into armpit porn, I promise. And if you did ever look me up, everything about me is pretty positive. I mean, the religious right hates that I’m queer but you know. Fuck them.”

“Ha!” Bucky crowed. “I _knew_ you’re famous! Still not gonna Google you, Stevie.”

“You’re not even gonna pretend like ‘I’m not straight’ is new information?”

“You stare at my ass too much for a straight guy,” he replied with an answering wink.

Groaning, Steve shook his head. “Oh my god, you’re as bad as Clint. My totally in-a-loving-relationship co-worker, Clint,” he clarified. “Who—” Steve looked down at the time on his phone— “Shit! I need to get my stuff and leave. We’re all going out to buy a Christmas tree and I said I would buy lunch.” Steve looked down at the paints and brushes and spiral notebooks full of paper. “Um, I guess I’ll take your best sellers?”

“Of which item?” Bucky was still smirking at Steve.

“All of them?”

——

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Like most Thursdays, he was in a haze from flirting with Bucky and even picking out a Christmas tree with the Avengers couldn’t bring his head down from the clouds. Unlike most Thursdays, he did actually open his new supplies and followed a YouTube tutorial on how to paint a Christmas tree. He was pretty pleased with how it turned out. Without realizing it, he made all the ornaments in shades of Bucky. The garland was the red of his sweater, the ornaments the cool blue gray of his eyes and pink of his cheeks, and the angel on top had a familiar mop of messy brown hair. Natasha teased him and suggested he gift it to Bucky since, obviously, he was his muse.

Steve shot down her suggestion, he didn’t want Bucky to think he was _obsessed_. No soda pop geese moments for Steve, or whatever he had said. But he was pleased with what he had created and the confidence boost prompted him to sign up for the drawing class he had been thinking about. Sam was supportive, telling Steve, “you’re still young and now you’re retired from super-heroing, you need to get out of the Tower more.”

In no time at all, the weekend was over, then he was out at the compound for a few days with Clint. They drove back to the city and Steve was excited it was Thursday again. By then, he had some pieces that were not directly inspired by Bucky or close-ups of his teammates that he could take and show off. His favorite was of the Christmas tree farm they had visited, with only the backs of his friends visible. He was nervous but he wanted to show Bucky that he _did_ in fact use the things he bought. Not...all of them. But enough to justify a once a week visit. He was still nervous about it all, but Sam, who was the most level headed of everybody, had assured Steve it was beautiful and he wasn’t being conceited in wanting to show it off.

Walking in, he was still anxious and didn’t know what to do with his arms. But Bucky’s smile washed away all of Steve’s worries and his warm “Stevie,” set off happy butterflies in his stomach. 

_”Ipaintedsomething,”_ he mumbled in a rush and held out the painting in its protective plastic cover over the sales counter.

Bucky’s face immediately went soft. “Oh, Steve,” he gasped. “This is so beautiful!” He looked up from the painting. “Is this where you went last week?”

Steve nodded and fought the urge to kick his feet like a love struck teenager. He nodded. “Yeah, those are my…” trailing off he thought about what he would call the Avengers; he knew Bucky didn’t want to know _how_ he was famous so he settled on “...my family.”

“It looks like it was a fun day,” Bucky said.

“Yeah, it was magical.” He sighed thinking about the little farm they had visited. “I didn’t think it would be such a big deal to pick out a Christmas tree, but there were lights and little kids and somebody dressed up as Santa. It was really something.”

Bucky still had a soft look on his face. “It looks like a magical place,” he agreed.

Steve had a sudden burst of genius and/or idiocy and blurted out, “I could take you?” He did kick his foot at that and gnawed on his lower lip. Bucky’s face lit up. _Maybe it wasn’t such a stupid idea,_ Steve thought as Bucky nodded.

“Yeah, uh, I haven’t picked out a tree, and I got paid for my side gig so I should be—”

“Oh,” Steve said with rising panic. “No! I’ll, it’s my idea, I can treat you! You don’t have to spend your money!”

Bucky gave him a little half glare. “I don’t need a sugar daddy, Steve.”

Steve felt himself go red. “Uh, that’s...that’s not at all what I meant. I just, I can get it as your Christmas present? And you can buy us hot chocolate? I don’t—”

Bucky walked around the counter and gently laid his hand on Steve’s forearm, effectively cutting Steve off mid-sentence. “OK,” he allowed. “You can buy me a _small_ tree as a present. But then I _will_ buy something in return.”

Steve nodded. “That’s fair!” he squeaked. “And if this goes well, you can plan our next...uh…” he shrugged. “Date?”

“That sounds like an acceptable agreement, Stevie.” He stuck his hand out. “A gentleman’s agreement?” he asked as Steve clasped his hand. Then Steve was shocked as Bucky cleverly turned the handshake into a hug.

“Mmm, you’re as beefy as you look, Steve,” Bucky murmured into Steve’s shoulder. 

“I work out?”

Bucky ended their embrace with a laugh. “I don’t work Sundays. You can pick me up here at like, noon?”

Steve nodded again. He was so glad he could communicate effectively with a hot guy. “Yeah, that all sounds perfect. I’ve got something that night but as long as I’m home by six, it shouldn't be a problem.”

“Oh, fun plans?” Bucky asked with a smile.

“Latkes and eggnog party with the family.” _It’s too soon to have him meet the Avengers,_ his brain helpfully supplied. “So, uh, yeah, I’ll meet you Sunday!”

“No new supplies today?” Bucky asked with a smirk. 

“Um, I actually need more paper and some new graphite pencils. But no, nothing totally new. I can go grab them myself if you’re busy.”

Bucky looked around the empty store. “Yeah, super busy, Steve. Just grab what you need and I’ll get it all bagged up for you.”

Almost running to the aisle with what he needed, Steve couldn’t keep the smile off his face and he let out a little giggle. He grabbed a couple of things and rushed back to the front, glad he was acting like an adult and not a giggly teen. Bucky didn’t seem to mind his silly behavior, if his answering grin was any indication. 

"OK," Bucky said. "Now with the discount that brings you to $27.90."

Steve groaned. "Bucky, you _really_ don't have to give me your discount!" They had had this argument on several occasions.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Not like I use it. Just take it, Stevie. Especially if you're going to buy me a tree this weekend."

"Fine," Steve grumbled. "And you're not going to argue about it."

Bucky raised his brows. "Like you're not arguing with me about this?"

Steve rolled his eyes but held up his arms in mock-surrender. "Point," he conceded. "Noon?"

Bucky smiled. "Noon."

——

Steve changed his outfit no less than six times Sunday morning. His red henley was too tight, his blue t-shirt looked good but he was going to have to wear a coat over it because it was short sleeved so it didn't matter how it looked if it was just going to be covered up, his gray button down felt too formal, and Natasha had vetoed all of his other choices. 

Digging into the back of his closet, she dragged out a lumpy white thing. As she unfolded it, Steve realized it was actually ivory and a chunky cable knit sweater that had been given to him several years ago.

"Nat, I don't want to dress like an old man," he complained. 

She looked unimpressed. "Try it on. If it's not too loose, it won't make you look geriatric. The color is going to warm up your skin and the pattern will make you look cozy."

"Don't wanna look _cozy_." Steve knew he was whining, but he hadn't been on a date in a long time and he was nervous. Natasha must have picked up on his nerves because she only smiled and shoved the sweater into his arms.

"If you hate it, you don't have to wear it. But at least try it, Steve."

He shrugged and pulled it over his head. It _was_ cozy. And it didn't feel too big. He walked over to the floor length mirror in his en suite and was surprised to realize Natasha was right.

"I can hear your shock," she drawled from his bedroom. "I know what looks good on you, Rogers."

He rolled his eyes and turned to check out how he looked from the back. The sweater was a little long, but not so much that it covered up all of his ass. He admired himself for a moment before walking out.

"You're right. Again," he sighed.

"Of course I'm right. What do you think they taught us in the Red Room?"

Steve was pretty sure she was joking. "I thought they taught you how to strangle a man to death with your thighs?" 

Steve sighed in relief as Nat smiled. "That and how to look damned good while doing it." She walked over and looped her arm in Steve's. "Bucky isn't going to know what got him," she reassured Steve. "You look hot and cuddly. You can't go wrong."

Bolstered by Nat's praise, Steve let himself think about his upcoming date. Some of his anxiety started to lessen. He let some of the tension bleed out of his body and knocked his elbow into Natasha. 

"You're a good friend, Nat. Thanks."

She smiled back at him, sweet as sugar. "If he hurts you, I will end him."

——

Walking to Art Attack, Steve could feel the anticipation and happy nerves growing. There was a little pep to his step and he smiled at random people on the walk. Which...they gave him weird looks because New York in the 21st century, but Steve was too excited to mind.

When he got to the shop, Bucky was standing outside in a navy blue wool coat with a two lines of buttons down the front. It ended at his belt and Steve was glad they were both obviously looking to show off their asses. _Their assets_ he thought and chuckled at his horrible attempt at humor.

As soon as he got to Bucky, he was being pulled into a hug. They were similar heights but Bucky was just a tiny bit shorter than Steve and his nose was at a perfect position to nestle into Steve’s neck. Bucky’s _cold_ nose. “Bleck!” he exclaimed and he could feel Bucky shaking in laughter.

“Sorry,” he murmured into Steve. “You’re just really warm.”

“‘S’OK,” Steve responded. “Just startled me.” He released Bucky and they shared a moment of intense eye contact that had Steve’s cheeks flush. Again.

Bucky smirked. “So uh, does the train take us to the farm?” he asked, suddenly more serious. “Cause I don’t know how things are gonna go, even with a small tree. You know how public transportation is.”

Steve nodded as he thought about the Thanksgiving dinner that had been served in one of the cars, making the news. “Stranger things have happened,” he said, making Bucky nod in agreement. He shook his head. “Well, that is certainly a _choice_. It’s not the best choice, but it is the most public choice. Or I have a friend with a truck that we can borrow, the garage is pretty close by, or we can take an Uber or something.”

Bucky turned and linked his arm with Steve’s. “I trust you, Steve. We can borrow your friend’s truck. It will be fun to see you all _manly_. Especially in your soft sweater.”

Steve leaned into Bucky, knocking their shoulders together. “You don’t even know—” he started as they walked towards Tony’s garage.

“I had my sister look you up,” Bucky admitted with not even the slightest bit of shame. “She said I could trust you and then,” he rolled his eyes, “ told me to ask you if you had a _plan_. I have no idea what that’s about.”

Steve snickered as he remembered the USO tour and that damned song that somehow Tony found and resurrected and turned into a viral hit on some app all the kids were on. Then, “you don’t know my full name, how did she—”

“Your card says Steven Grant and I told her you were buff, blond, and really hot. She said your name came up pretty quick. I’m just glad you tripped in the middle of the pottery aisle. Saved me from being too starstruck.”

“There was a life-like penis on the shelf!” Steve hissed as they waited to cross the road. “It was all veiny and everything!”

The light changed and the group of people waiting, all surged forward. Bucky, however, was stuck in place, laughing. “The look on your face,” he wheezed. “One of our regulars likes to drop off _interesting_ pieces in the shop. He knows the owner and if it’s too obscene, he makes sure to tell me where to look after the schools get out. Cause it’s funny when it’s us but nobody wants a kid to see that.”

By the time Bucky’s explanation had finished, they were waiting on traffic again. “That...actually makes me feel a little bit better,” he admitted. 

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “Clint’s a doof, but he’s a mostly responsible doof. Well, aside from coming in looking beat to shit every other week.”

Steve knew a Clint who was regularly injured. He narrowed his eyes at Bucky. “This is weird, but is he about—” he held up his hand to his jaw line— “yea tall, dirty blond, says ‘aw’ a lot?”

Bucky nodded and the people around them started moving to cross the street. This time, Steve made sure to make Bucky walk with the crowd. “Yeah, I know that Clint. He’s who told me about the store. Didn’t realize it was because he was a customer. Who created rude art to hide.”

“Apparently he went to school for sculpture and does something else, but he has a wicked sense of humor and is crazy talented.” Bucky stopped for a moment, causing the people behind them to grumble. “Yeah, I’ll move to the side!” he snapped. “So, last week when you said your co-worker Clint…”

Steve snorted. _Of course Bucky would remember_. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Same guy. But don’t worry, he’s usually injured because of personal reasons, not because of our job. I am very rarely in danger.”

Bucky bumped back into Steve, merging them into the crowd and making Steve take the lead to the garage. “Very rarely in danger is still not great, Steven.”

“It’s better than it used to be, Buck. Don’t worry though. Nothing bad’s going to happen to me. I’m pretty much retired.” He saw the corner of the garage and pointed. “That’s where we need to go. The truck is on the third level.” Steve was very glad he had moved Tony’s truck from the Tower to the parking garage Stark owned. Bucky still wasn’t interested in learning who Steve was, so _not_ seeing the number of classic, souped up, and Iron Man themed cars, was definitely the right direction to go for Steve.

They were pretty quiet as they crossed the next intersection and climbed the stairs. Steve saw the truck right away, the license plate read “Stank” and Steve giggled. He couldn’t help himself; Rhodey was a genius and Tony was going to go all red in the face when he realized what had been done. _That’s what happens when you get your friends to do your boring paperwork,_ Steve thought as he continued giggling.

Bucky was just looking at him, fondly Steve hoped, which made Steve giggle more. “Sorry— sorry,” he finally gasped out. “It’s just that I didn’t see the _Stank_ when I picked out the truck.” He kept giggling, half from the situation and half because suddenly _all the nerves_ kicked in at taking Bucky out on a date.

He walked to the passenger side door and opened it, still with a couple of hysterical giggly breaths escaping. Bucky rolled his eyes and smiled, uttering “fine,” under his breath. Steve pulled himself together and walked around the back of the truck to give himself a mini-pep talk. 

_You punched aliens. You punched a tank,_ he reminded himself. _You can take a cute guy out to buy a tree. You can lift this truck with your bare hands if you need to. You can keep it together, dammit._ Finally at his door, Steve got in and gave Bucky a smile.

“Sorry, it’s been a while and I’m a little nervous,” he admitted, running his hand along the back of his neck. “I kinda just, yeah. But if you knew…” He trailed off. “Tony” and “Stank” would probably out Steve as someone who knew Iron Man. Changing topics, he asked, “so how big of a tree do you want?”

Bucky laughed as Steve put on his seatbelt. Steve was happy to see Bucky was already wearing one. Seatbelts and vaccines were two things Steve had _opinions_ on. Bucky was smiling at Steve, showing off a little dimple in his left cheek that kinda sorta matched the little dimple in his chin. 

“Smooth, Steve,” he said in response. “And wait, did you say, when you picked _out_ the truck? Instead of when you picked it up? Does your friend have multiple vehicles? Are they also famous?”

“Uh, no comment,” Steve said, rather brilliantly. “So like a four foot tree? Six feet? We’ve got tons of room for cargo so we can easily—”

“Oh my god,” Bucky groaned. “Fine. We will talk about Christmas trees and not your weird secret life. Thankfully Becca already assured me you don’t have a secret family, so I won’t pry.”

“You’re the one who doesn’t want to know!” Steve was indigent. He would have happily introduced his well-known identity to Bucky before the date.

“Uh, I think like a four foot tree would be nice in my apartment,” Bucky replied.

——

After agreeing that Bucky would get a six foot tree (Steve had won that argument, the taller trees were a better choice, _economically_ speaking) they moved on to less argumentative topics. Steve learned that Bucky loved animated movies, he wanted to learn to play a musical instrument, and his greatest dream was to design things for Lego. Steve talked about going to art school (he left out that it was on the verge of the outbreak of World War II), how he had lost interest in creating for several years (again, leaving out things because he had been _fighting aliens_ ) but that he was really glad Clint had recommended the art store because he was really happy trying out new things.

They had a rapid fire game of twenty questions about the banal aspects of their lives, favorite color, favorite season, favorite foods (to which Bucky, in disgust, uttered _nobody likes_ brussel sprouts _, Steve. Pick something else_ ) and Steve found out Bucky’s deepest darkest secret.

“You _cannot_ be serious! There is no way your favorite musical group is The Spice Girls!” Steve said in disbelief. Bucky pouted. It was… _it was really really cute_ Steve admitted to himself. 

“At least my favorite vegetable isn’t _brussel sprouts_ ” he replied in mock horror. 

“I will have you know—” Steve started only to have Bucky cut him off.

“We’re here! Holy shit, Steve, I didn’t believe you when you said this place was magical. It’s really fucking magical! It’s like if you go out of the city, there’s a whole other world!”

Steve laughed. As much as he and Tony thought the city was the center of the universe, occasionally there _were_ nice things outside of it. He liked that Bucky fell into the same category; another thing they had in common. 

Steve circled around for a few minutes before finally finding a parking spot. Bucky glared at him. “Stay there,” he said sternly.

Steve held up his hands in surrender. “If you insist.”

Bucky walked around the truck and held open the door for Steve. Steve fought a smile as he got out of the truck. “I can be a gentleman too,” Bucky muttered under his breath. “Asshole.”

Steve laughed again. “I heard that, Buck,” he commented as Bucky closed the door and Steve locked everything up.

Bucky looked at him with a wry grin. “You were supposed to, Stevie.” He held his arm out. “I was promised a Christmas tree and it appears we’re in the right place. Show me where the magic happens.”

Steve blushed as he mumbled "my bedroom is at the Tower," and Bucky either ignored the horrible joke or didn't hear Steve. Steve honestly didn't know which option he preferred but he wasn't going to question it. Bucky pulled at his arm and they walked to the entrance. Steve let out a little chuckle as Bucky gawked at the Santa.

"He looks like the _real_ Santa," he whispered.

"Yeah, there's apparently a big need for realistic looking Santas this time of year," Steve whispered back, both aware of the children walking towards the jolly man in the red suit. "Wait until he laughs, he sounds perfect."

As if to prove Steve's point, the Santa let out a hearty "ho ho ho" and the kids all shrieked with glee. The elves, who were working the photo shoot, started rounding up the children so they could get their turn.

Steve pulled on Bucky and led him to the concession stand. "Want something warm to drink now, or after we've been walking in the cold for a while?"

Bucky snuggled into Steve. "Now's good," he said. "I've actually got a pretty big sweet tooth." Steve rolled his eyes. During their twenty questions, Bucky had admitted that his favorite food was ice cream.

"Sure," was all be said in return, lining up behind the few people waiting to order. They stood in a comfortable silence until they reached the counter.

"I'll have a medium mulled cider," Steve said to the teen at the register.

"I'll have the peppermint hot chocolate," Bucky chimed in. "And it's _my_ treat."

Steve made sure Bucky couldn't see him roll his eyes, but he didn't argue. _If Bucky wants to do this_ , he thought, _it's probably a good sign._ Tony had lectured Steve, on several occasions, about the dangers of finding someone who was only interested in Steve for his money or fame. Thankfully Bucky didn't _want_ to know who he "really" was and he didn't seem like he wanted to take advantage of Steve's generosity. Steve, however, wanted to spoil Bucky _a little_.

So, Christmas tree it was. And Steve would be gracious about his drink. They finished up at the counter. “Do you wanna walk around while we finish our drinks, or just sit?” There was a little area set up with wooden benches and fluffy blankets.

“Walkin’s fine,” Bucky responded. He gave Steve a soft smile and slipped his free hand into Steve’s

They looked at all the different things at the farm, the reindeer that the kids were oohing and aahing over, the display of poinsettias and twinkle lights, until they reached the trees. Steve was done with his cup so he disposed of it and looked at Bucky.

“We can look around some more or we can pick out your tree.”

“Tree,” Bucky said emphatically. “Now that I’m fine with you buying it for me, I want the perfect tree. Not too tall, just round enough, and a good smell.”

Steve nodded and he knew his grin was fond. Within three minutes, Bucky was crying victory. “This one! It’s perfect! It’s as tall as you are and smells like heaven.”

“Oh, so I’m not too tall,” Steve asked, taking a step so he and Bucky were only an inch apart.

“Nope,” Bucky said with a wink. “You’re just right too,” then he leaned up and captured Steve’s lips in a kiss. He tasted like peppermint and chocolate and his mouth was hot compared to the cold air surrounding them. 

They kissed, sweet, almost chaste kisses until Bucky licked at Steve’s lips and moved away. Steve let out a little whine. 

“We’re surrounded by people, Stevie. I don’t want to stop but if we don’t I’m afraid we’ll get arrested.” Steve raised his eyebrows. “For public indecency,” Bucky said rolling his eyes. “You _knew_ what I meant, punk.”

“But it’s more fun to wind you up.”

Bucky’s cheeks turned pink faster than Steve thought was possible. He leaned in and nibbled at Steve’s ear so quickly it almost seemed imagined. “You do wind me up, Stevie,” he whispered making Steve shiver. “But I’m more than happy to take you back to mine and make-out with you until you have to leave for your party.”

Steve groaned. “Fucking party,” he muttered. He took a step back from the warmth of Bucky and took a deep breath of the crisp air. “Yeah, I should have like an hour to help you bring your tree in. Is there any parking?”

Bucky nodded and grabbed his tree. “Let’s do this.”

——

There was parking within a couple of blocks so Steve did the gentlemanly thing and carried the tree and set it gently into Bucky’s apartment. He was then dragged to the couch and thoroughly kissed until Steve’s lips felt puffy and looked red. Dragging himself out of Bucky’s apartment was one of the hardest things he’d had to do in a while. 

Before he left, they traded numbers. Steve’s ma would have been horrified that he spent half the party texting Bucky. But nobody commented on it, even if Nat shot him a few self-satisfied smirks. 

The rest of the week flew by with rounds of furious texting and then it was Thursday again. Steve left with a single notebook and a hickie. They hadn’t _meant_ to make-out at Bucky’s place of employment, but Bucky was OK with it, so Steve was too.

After that it was Christmas and a flurry of activity at the compound with all the current and former Avengers. They had a tradition of staying together for the week from Christmas to New Years, and usually Steve loved it. This year though he was acting more like an angsty teen, texting and sighing.

Finally it was back to the city and back to his weekly trips to the art store. Though there had been a couple of dates before the trip that had all ended in kissing, heavy petting, and a lot of sexual tension, Steve was glad to be back to his normal schedule.

But Steve was buying supplies for his new class the following week and that led to more illicit kissing and grinding in the back room. Everything came to a head the night of Steve’s first class.

“Alright class,” Steve’s professor said. “Welcome to life model drawing. This is a continuing education class so there are no grades, no penalties for not turning in assignments, no stress about finals. However, if you want to improve your craft, or learn something new, it is imperative that you listen and _try_. Everyone here is at vastly different skill levels, if history is any indication, but no one is ‘better’ than the rest of you. No artist truly stops learning. I will be here every week and my partner, Professor Proctor will be in every other week. We collaborate with this class because…,” She gave a little laugh. “Well, because it’s fun. So, please, learn what you can and have fun.”

She walked back to the back, to presumably talk to the model. Steve felt bad because he had already forgotten her name. He was flipping through his notebook to find the syllabus Tony had printed for him, and then patted him on the head and called him a _good duck_ , when he heard the professor walk back in. 

“Class, our model today is one of our veterans. James has been modeling for us for about four years and he’s a good guy.” Steve heard the man walk in as he finally found Professor Roy’s name. Then his jaw dropped because _James_ was _Bucky_.

Bucky who was in a skimpy robe, totally at ease, about to be naked in front of the entire class. The class that _Steve_ was attending. They had felt each other up under their clothes but they had yet to be totally nude. But that was apparently going to change very quickly.

Steve watched Bucky look at the crowd of people and then come to a screeching halt when his eyes reached Steve. 

_This is crazy!_ , he mouthed to Bucky. Winking, Bucky just did a little finger wave and mouthed back, _what are the odds?_

To say that Steve had been through torturous things in his life would be an understatement. Being sickly in the 30s, the serum, _fighting Hydra_ , none of these compared to sitting through 45 minutes of naked Bucky on display. 

He glared at his cock, half hard just from the view and gave it a stern talking to. _Nothing inappropriate in front of the entire class_.

Finally, _finally_ , the professor called the class to a close. “Feel free to keep working on your pieces. We will have a new model next week, but James will be back the following one. Thanks everyone!”

Steve watched everyone pack up and he sat there, motionless, waiting for his shame to fade. Thankfully Professor Roy walked out with a quick word to Bucky. Who was now, thankfully, back in his tiny robe. Steve shook his head. The robe wasn’t a ton better than totally nude Bucky, but at least he could breathe. Mostly. 

Bucky sauntered over to Steve’s place in the classroom with an evil glint in his eye. “So, Steve. Enjoy checking out my butt?”

Steve groaned and dropped his head in his hands. “Oh my god, Bucky, I… I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to ogle—”

Bucky started giggling. “Your face…” he got out. “I haven’t seen somebody look that scared since— I don’t know! It was hilarious. And don’t worry! You should ogle my ass! It’s a _great_ ass!”

Steve groaned again. Bucky giggled again. There seemed to be a trend. Then Bucky lightly touched Steve’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s OK. Let me go get dressed and you can help me lock up. This is my sister’s room so when she’s not here, I lock everything up.”

Steve gathered his things up and followed Bucky back like an obedient dog. He definitely watched Bucky’s ass as he walked to the area where his clothes were.

“So I’ll just wait while you—”

Bucky’s lips crashed into Steve’s, stopping him almost mid-word. Dropping his armful of art supplies Steve wasted no time wrapping his arms around Bucky and grabbing the ass that had so recently been on display. Bucky was the one groaning as Steve used every trick he knew, licking into Bucky’s mouth, nipping at his lower lip, massaging his ass.

Bucky _melted_ against Steve’s body. His robe was quickly becoming indecent as they kept kissing and started rubbing against each other. Steve was hard in his jeans and Bucky was making little panting noises as he rubbed himself against Steve. 

The weeks of texting and kissing had finally come to a boil and Steve nibbled down Bucky’s neck and whispered, “god, Buck. You’re so fucking sexy. Want to touch you everywhere. Wanna taste you.”

Bucky quit breathing for a moment. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that,” he said between moans.

Steve’s brain went on autopilot, pushing the robe off Bucky and forcing him to walk back until he was up against the wall. Touching and tweaking and kissing, Steve made his way down as far as was comfortable, until he had to kneel in front of Bucky.

He rested his head against Bucky’s groin, taking in his scent, soap, sweat, a hint of chalk from the room. He looked up at Bucky. “You’re sure this is OK?” 

Bucky somehow looked even more turned on by that. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah Whatever you want.”

Steve kissed Bucky’s hip in reward and started licking up and down Bucky’s dick. He didn’t have the patience for much but he tried to prolong the teasing. Steve placed kisses up the shaft and ran his tongue around the tip. Sucking gently, he moved his hands back to Bucky’s ass. 

“Steve don’t tease, goddamnit.”

Steve looked up and smiled. “OK,” he said before taking Bucky down his throat as far as he could. He bobbed his head and hollowed his cheeks until Bucky was gasping. The gasps were like a symphony to Steve and he tried to listen for things that made Bucky gasp the loudest. A combination of a firm squeeze to his cheeks and a sharp suckle to his tip seemed to make him squirm. He would go down several times and then squeeze and suck and after a few turns, Bucky was stuttering out “Gonna, Steve. Gonna come.”

Steve tapped his hip to let him know he could finish, and soon after his mouth was flooded with Bucky’s release. Bucky seemed to lose all the strength in his legs and he slid down the wall, wincing a little when he reached the cold ground. 

“I’ll—” he said then took a gulp of air. “I’ll—” 

Steve waved him off. He had already unzipped his pants and was pulling at his cock, the combination of watching Bucky fall apart and the weeks of teasing had led him to the edge. He felt his balls tighten, his nerves lit up, Bucky reached up and tweaked his nipple and Steve was _done_.

He groaned as he came, eyes shut tightly, sparks behind his eyes. Finally he finished and looked down at Bucky who looked thoroughly debauched. 

“Shit, that was hot, Steve.”

“Ugh, I’m so sorry,” Steve said. “I got you all messy.”

“As long as it’s not in my hair, we’re good,” Bucky returned. 

Steve sat back on his heels and looked Bucky over. Pink cheeks, kiss bitten lips, messy hair, and sparkling smile. He felt his heart explode with happiness.

Breaking the reverie, Steve’s phone went off. He pulled it out of his pocket and hit the ignore button. 

“Hey, there Cap,” Tony’s voice rang out, clear in the silence. “Just making sure you’re not dead in a ditch. It’s movie night at the Tower.”

Bucky’s eyes got big. “CAP?!?” he shouted. “Is that _Tony Stark?_

“Uh, is now not a good time, Steve?” 

“Ugh, that was supposed to go to ignore not speaker,” Steve grunted out. “I’ll call you back later, Tony?”

Bucky folded his arms across his chest and glared at Steve before breaking and letting out a laugh and rolling his eyes. “Steve, when I thought you were famous, I thought maybe you were like a one-hit-wonder in the early 2000s, not like _Steve Rogers, Captain fucking America_. At least you’re retired? You are retired, right? Falcon took over, right? You’re not in danger, right? We talked about this?" Bucks voice kept getting higher and higher with each question. "Am I shrieking?”

Steve sat down next to him against the wall and took his hand. “Yeah, I train the new kids and unless it’s the end of the world, I don’t go into danger. I'm not actively Captain America anymore. Tony just likes to call me that cause he's a dick."

Bucky gave him an appraising look. Then thought for a moment. As if reaching a verdict, he nodded. "If you’re not throwing yourself into danger, I guess I can let it slide because you’re really hot. And fun to be around. And unintentionally funny. But also you have to find a different class because I can’t pose for you and not make the sitting pornographic.” 

Steve nodded and turned to kiss Bucky. “So, do you want to go to movie night at Avenger’s Tower and meet my friends? Have them meet the new man in my life?”

“Oh my god, no Steve! I can’t meet _Falcon_ like this! My hair is a mess and he’s _Captain America!_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much TrishArgh for bidding on me for Fandom Trumps Hate! I was slightly (a lot) exited and scared, but you're such a lovely person and I'm so thrilled to have had the chance to work with you.
> 
> Also a big shout out to Jay, Sable, and [Coldwinterrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldwinterrose/pseuds/coldwinterrose) for the support and an amazing beta read through by Rose.


End file.
